THE INTERVIEW.
Faithful to his wicked intentions, Duffel presented himself before Eveline
on the day succeeding the one in which she was placed in confinement at the
cave, and having no choice in the matter, she was obliged to become a
participator in the conversation he was pleased to introduce and force upon
her. She was seated on an elegant sofa--for the apartment was luxuriously
furnished--when he entered; and with all the assurance of an accepted
friend, he walked up and took a seat by her side. She was reading at the
time, and when he entered she barely raised her eyes from the pages of the
book, as if to assure herself who it was that intruded, and then, without
further notice or any sign of recognition, continued to peruse the work in
hand. This unexcited, cool and self-possessed conduct was not what the
villain seemed to expect or desire; he hoped to find a suppliant in tears,
instead of a calm and apparently unconcerned woman; he was prepared for
such a subject, but for the one before him he was not, and he was at a loss
how to proceed; indeed, just at that moment he was the most uneasy of the
two. But he must do something, and so opened the interview on this wise:
"You seem to be deeply absorbed in the contents of that book, Miss
Mandeville, and I am pleased to see you so well entertained in this rather
solitary abode."
As this remark did not positively require a reply, Eveline continued to
read without opening her mouth; Duffel bit his lip in vexation, but after a
pause of some duration continued:
"I am very sorry to interrupt you when so agreeably employed, but necessity
often compels us to do things abhorrent to our feelings; and as I have some
important communications to make, which it is best for you to know
immediately, I must beg to be permitted to disturb you for a few minutes.
Perhaps it will be some compensation for the brief interruption to give you
the latest intelligence from your father and former home."
At these words Eveline for the first time raised her eyes to the face of
the villain, as if to ascertain the expression of his countenance, and
learn whether he was in a serious or mocking humor. He went on:
"I had the pleasure of a long interview with Mr. Mandeville last evening.
He was in much distress at your absence, and thought you were very
undutiful to leave him in his old age without even a parting word."
At this unfeeling recital, Eveline cast upon the heartless wretch a look of
indignation, and her dark eyes fairly shot fire; he quailed under the
scathing rebuke of those orbs, as he had often done before, but was
chagrined that he had been unable to draw a single word from her lips, and
mentally resolving to bring her to the speaking point, he proceeded:
"But sorry and indignant as he was at _your_ conduct, he was far more
deeply exasperated at Hadley."
"Hadley!" repeated she, in the first moment of surprise.
"Yes; that very loving letter he addressed to you fell into your parent's
hands, together with another one from the same writer, directed to himself
wherein Hadley asks forgiveness for himself, and especially for you, fair
lady, whom he represents to be in deep distress, that love irresistibly
draws you to him and away from home."
"Villain!" ejaculated Eveline, with flashing eye.
"Be careful of your words, my dear; you are not now in your father's
house, and it may not suit my purpose to allow you the use of such
epithets, as applied to myself."
With this remark, Eveline at once turned to her book and commenced reading
again, as much as to say:--"Have the conversation all to yourself, then!"
and the miscreant so understood and interpreted the act, and felt that he
was outgeneraled by the superior tactics of his opponent, notwithstanding
the immense advantage he was master of in the contest.
"Nay, fair lady," he said, "I did not intend to cut you off from the
privilege of speech, but only to advise you to be a little careful in the
use of terms and epithets."
"Sir, if after forcing a conversation upon me on your own terms, and at an
advantage of your own choosing, you are too cowardly to hear what I please
to say, you must talk to yourself. When I speak at all I select my own
words. I do not belong to that class of contemptible poltroons, who slink
behind others to hide themselves and their crimes, basely exposing the
innocent to the censures and punishment that should fall upon their own
guilty heads. No, sir; woman as I am I would scorn to stoop to such a low
depth of infamy to screen myself from any position, even from death itself;
and if you, with all this littleness of mind and cringing cowardice of
soul, expect to intimidate me by any menaces, all I have to say is, you
have 'reckoned without your host.' And permit me to tell you that there are
no words in any language half adequate to express my contempt of you as a
man, or my abhorrence of your acts as a criminal, of whom, thus far, the
gallows has been shamefully cheated."
This bold speech fairly took the rascal out of himself. He ground his teeth
in rage and seemed on the point of committing some desperate deed, but
those unquailing and flashing eyes were fixed upon him with a look that
seemed to burn into his innermost soul, and penetrate its dark recesses of
guilt. He was again conquered by that look; there was a magnetic power
about it he could not withstand; and swallowing his rage as best he could,
replied after this manner:
"I perceive you have that implement for which your sex is so distinguished,
a ready tongue, and I must confess it points words sharply and drives them
home with force, and under some circumstances I might feel like
retaliating; but here, as my guest, I shall not presume to do so; it will
accord much better with my wishes to proceed with the matter in hand,--As I
was saying, your father fully believes that Hadley has persuaded you to
leave home and elope with him, and he is so shocked by your want of filial
affection, as to be totally disqualified for acting with his usual energy;
beside, he says if you care so little for him as to desert him and the home
of your childhood for a horse-thief and a vagabond, he cares not to seek
after you, but says you may go."
At the first, Eveline felt like weeping, and for a moment buried her face
in her hands; but then she felt it would not do to give way to feelings of
tenderness and sorrow in her present situation, and choking down the great
grief that swelled up in her bosom on her father's account, she suddenly
assumed a commanding attitude, and addressed the calculating human fiend as
follows:
"Inhuman monster! how long do you expect thus to dare the vengeance of
heaven? You have stained your soul with crimes that would darken the pit of
night; you have committed robberies, and thefts, and _murder_! Ay, start
and turn pale when your crimes stare you in the face, you have done so
before, and you will again. You thought there was no eye to witness your
plotting deeds, no ear to hear your murderous plans except those of your
vile confederates, but you see I am aware of your crimes."
"Who told you these things?" he demanded, breaking in upon her discourse.
"That is a question I shall not take the trouble to answer; it is enough
for you to understand that _I know what you are_, and that long-delayed
justice will overtake you, perhaps, sooner than you deem it possible your
secret acts can be brought to light; for you seem to have forgotten that
there is One, whose eye never slumbers, whose ear is always open to the
prayer of the distressed and to the voice of the blood of the innocent,
which crieth from the ground as did the blood of Abel."
"Ah, what a pity it is you are not a parson, or at least a parson's wife!
You really talk like a preacher; but I fear your discourse has produced
little more effect upon _your_ auditory than do the polished words of a
fashionable divine upon _his_; all very fine, but fancy sketches are not
apt to effect as much with sober, common-sense people, as is the truth."
This was said with something of returning assurance, Duffel having tried to
work himself into the belief that all was guess-work on the part of
Eveline, so far as her accusations were concerned. She saw this, and in a
moment the remembrance of her dream that morning flashed across her mind,
and she determined to try the effect a reference to the scenes which passed
in review before her mental vision would have upon him:
"Sir, your assumed assurance would soon leave you if you were in a
court-room, and the evidence of your guilt, as I have it, detailed by
witnesses. When your secret conference with those vile instruments--not yet
so vile as yourself--whom it has pleased you to use as tools, were made
known before a court and jury, your brazen impudence would depart, and the
specter of a gibbet in the distance--and but a short distance, too--would
pale your unblushing cheek and palsy your false tongue, skillful as you may
have been in casting blame upon others by deceptive and lying words. When
it was proved that _you_ stole my father's horse; that _you_ are
responsible for the absence of Mr. Hadley; that _you_ pointed the knife and
the pistol at his heart, and then mendaciously represented him as the thief
and kidnapper who is found in your own person; then, sir, would you vail
your face and go out no more among men, but upon your forehead, as _now_
upon your soul, would be the brand of _thief_, _robber_, _murderer_! Ay,
well may you cower! well may the cold sweat force itself out upon your
brow! Did it never enter into your debased mind that the villain who is
degraded enough to sell himself to crime for a little sordid dust, will,
for a larger sum, betray his employer? Do you suppose that when _you_
meditate vengeance upon your tools, they will idly await your pleasure and
plans, and lift no hand in their own defense?"
At this point Duffel actually sprang to his feet, the great drops oozing
from every pore! How had his secret thoughts become known to her?--thoughts
that no mortal ear had ever heard him utter?
"Girl! girl!" he shouted, "who and what are you? demon, witch or spirit?"
Then he paused a moment, as if to collect himself, and decide upon a course
of action. Becoming a little more composed, he continued:
"If you are in league with hell, then are we of one family if you have not
belied me, and I shall take it upon myself to strengthen the affinity by--"
"Sir!" she said, with a commanding look which awed him into silence, (for
his superstitious feelings were already in the ascendant, and he began to
_fear_ her) "I have no connection with the household of his Satanic
majesty, _nor do I intend to have_, albeit you have intimated to the
contrary."
"Don't be too sure of that," he interrupted. "You must know that when I set
my heart upon a measure, I never allow myself to be defeated in its
accomplishment; and just now the darling object I have in view is a union
with yourself."
This was _said_ with much of his usual assurance, though the expression of
his face gave indications of internal uneasiness, and a trembling of soul,
which belied the ostensible bravery put on for the occasion.
"You speak as though there was but one will in the world, of which you were
the fortunate possessor; permit me to disabuse your overweening confidence
and selfishness on this point. I have no wish to pass words with such an
unmanly representative of mankind as you, sir, but let me assure you it is
my very calm and fixed determination to show you that all your intentions
cannot be carried out."
"We will see, then," he said, with something of aroused indignation, "whose
will is the stronger, or, rather, who has the advantage in this contest.
You seem to forget your situation at the present moment, and that you are
entirely and completely in my power."
"I forgot nothing, sir: I am in the hands of One, before whom you are as a
grasshopper; and His justice does not always slumber."
"Turning parson again! It is all very well; but just now that high
authority seems to be engaged in some one else's behalf, and, much to my
satisfaction, has left you to take care of yourself. I, on the contrary,
having an immediate interest in your welfare, have undertaken to care for
you; and inasmuch as your very powerful ally has given you into my hands, I
esteem it my interest and privilege to find a home and provide for you."
These words of derision were spoken with mock politeness, and the manner of
the speaker indicated that much of his wonted assurance had returned.
"May that God you impiously defy, whose attributes you daringly and
deridingly blaspheme, let fall upon your guilty head the just punishment
for your crimes; I ask for you no greater curse--Heaven knows that will be
dreadful enough!"
"There, that will do! We have had enough preaching for one day; let us now
proceed to business. I was just remarking how completely you are in my
power, and a glance at your situation will at once reveal to you the fact
that I have you where I can compel a compliance with my wishes; but I do
not propose to use force, unless compelled to do so by your own obstinacy
and willfulness. I have already, on former occasions, spoken to you of my
deep and unquenchable love for you, and it is not my purpose to repeat the
declarations made at those several interviews farther than to say, that my
feelings toward you remain unchanged; I regard you too highly to permit
another to wed you; I may be selfish, but that is a natural result of love;
no one ever loved but he desired to possess the object of his affection. In
this respect I do not claim for myself any superior excellence; my love is
human in kind, it only differs from others by being stronger in degree; and
the deeper the love, the more ardent the desire to win the beloved. This is
my only apology for bringing you here; and, as it is a very flattering one,
I hope you will accept it, and pardon the act to the performance of which I
was irresistibly driven by this strongest passion of the human heart."
Seeing the direction he was giving the conversation, Eveline took up her
book and commenced reading. Duffel was exceedingly vexed, but this time he
was not to be balked in his designs, and so took the book from her hands,
saying as he did so.
"I beg pardon, but now I _must_ and _will_ be heard. I have already
informed you of your father's feelings toward yourself and Charles Hadley:
I have now another piece of intelligence to communicate to you; and that
is, that your parent gave you to me in case I should be able, by _any
means_, to save you from a union with Hadley."
"It is false! My parent gave me his solemn promise never to interpose his
authority to compel me to marry against my will."
"Very well: you at the same time gave him your word never to see Hadley
until he was cleared of the crime imputed to him; he believes you have been
unfaithful on your part, and that he, therefore, is no longer bound to
observe the compact entered into between you."
"Again you are guilty of misrepresentation. My father's word was pledged to
me before he had even asked me not to see Mr. Hadley, and there was,
consequently, no compact between us, but a voluntary promise on either
side."
"Which you violated by going to meet Hadley, as you supposed."
"No, sir, I did not. My word was given to be observed so long only as Mr.
Hadley appeared to be guilty. I know him to be innocent, and that knowledge
absolves me."
"As you please on that point; for it matters but little, and does not
change the view taken of the subject by Mr. Mandeville, who, as I said, has
given you to me on the one condition of preventing a union between you and
Hadley; _and I am at liberty to act just as I see fit_ in order to
accomplish this end. Don't you see that I have everything my own way, and
your father's sanction, also, to any measures I may adopt?"
"What you say _may_ be true, though I have no evidence whatever that it is;
for if you would lie to my parent, you would lie to me also. One thing,
however, I _do_ know, and that is, that you have not yet obtained _my_
consent to your proposed measures, and being of age, I have the legal right
to make such disposition of my hand as I may see proper; and be assured I
will never bestow it upon _you_! Sir, I would prefer to wed the vilest
wretch in the Penitentiary of any State before you."
"You may repent the use of such words, fair lady; and, indeed, but for my
merciful feelings toward you, ere this you would have been glad to beg the
boon I now offer and you reject."
"Infamous villain! never!"
"We shall see."
"And we _shall_ see!"
She fixed upon him that look from which he had so often shrunk before, and
again he quailed beneath it.
"From what you have already said," he replied, avoiding her gaze, "I am led
to suppose you suspect me of crimes in the eyes of the law, which it would
not be pleasant for the world to know. This is an additional reason why I
cannot permit you to leave this place except as my wife; for I am not
prepared just yet to enter the court-room. I am persuaded that one of your
strongest reasons for refusing to marry me, has its foundation in a former
preference, and is kept active by the hope of a union with the object of
that preference; if so, permit me to say to you that Charles Hadley is
_dead_!"
"Perhaps, but I must have better evidence of the fact than your simple,
unsupported word, or I will not believe it. _I know you bargained to have
him killed_, but I hope God overruled your wicked intentions."
"Your hope is vain, and I will bring you the necessary witnesses to-morrow
to prove my words; at present I will state the fact, and add; for your
benefit, that, whether true or false, your destiny is the same, and from it
you cannot, shall not escape. I will now lay down the unalterable decree of
fate, which you may as vainly attempt to avoid, as to pluck down the stars
of heaven, or to blot out the sun from the firmament!"
"Perhaps."
"I give you one week in which to con the matter over in your mind; if at
the end of that time you willingly consent to become my wife, well and
good; if not, then I will make you mine whether you will or not!"
"Perhaps."
"Girl! don't presume too far on my patience. I warn you it is not the most
enduring in the world."
"I am not so sure of that. Cowards are generally very patient when there is
no danger at hand."
"You will repent this, girl!"
"And you, sir! what will you do when the rope dangles in your face?"
"Kiss my pretty wife and commend her to the compassion of her friends."
"You will never have a wife, sir. God in His infinite mercy, will spare all
my sex from such a fearful calamity."
"Enough words for this time. To-morrow I will bring the witnesses of
Hadley's death, as I promised you; and this day week I will receive your
final answer to my last offer of a peaceable marriage."
So saying, he left the room and the cave.